


Looking For Hope

by mermaidquartz



Series: Looking For Hope [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anxiety, Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance | BSAA, Chronic Pain, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Jill Redfield, Pain, Post-Resident Evil 5, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Resident Evil Revelations 2, Resident Evil 5, Spoilers, Valenfield - Freeform, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-08 06:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13452078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidquartz/pseuds/mermaidquartz
Summary: After the events of Resident Evil 5, Jill comes home not well. Chris tries his hardest to make things better for the both of them.





	1. A Start

It had been a few months since coming home from the incident in Africa. Jill was still adjusting to life apart from the possession/mind control freak of a B.O.W. Wesker had manipulated her into. The four circular scars on her chest were a painful reminder of the past three years.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror, shrugging a thick turtleneck over her still sickly pale skin. Her almost white hair matched, making her large blue eyes stand out in an odd way. She had cut the mane into a more manageable bob almost as soon as she had come home, just for some familiarity in her abused skin.

The front door to the apartment jostled open, sending a cold bout of air tumbling in. Chris wrestled with getting the door closed as another gust of wind pummeled after him. He knocked into the side table that had a very dead-looking orchid and a pile of bills teetering off the edge. The brunette slammed the door shut, mumbling a slur of curses under his breath, and managed to grab the orchid mid-fall. 

He stared at the door for a moment, his shoulders raising and falling in a few exasperated breaths before he turned and saw Jill peering at him from the entry to their bedroom.

“Ah, shit. I woke you up?” He yanked his green-knit beanie from his head. “I got breakfast.” He held up a crinkled McDonald’s bag in his other hand. “I hope hash browns sound okay. Not sure if they’re still warm anymore. It’s freezing.” 

“McDonalds?” Jill sighed. She took the bag from him and laid the contents out on the counter.

“Hey, third times the charm.” 

“If Piers finds out you’ve been eating this junk—”

“Well, he won’t if you don’t tell him.” Chris plucked a cheese and ham biscuit up and grinned at her. He was trying anything to cheer her up. Even if he stayed up at night staring at the ceiling, counting how many bullets he’d driven into his nemesis. 

A cold hash brown found its way into Jill’s hands and she glanced at the clock. “I thought you’d gone into work. It’s past nine.” 

“I’m not going in until you come back with me.”

“Chris…” she groaned, “You’re a Captain.”

“Yeah, and I’m on leave until my partner gets better.” He grabbed another biscuit and ripped into it. “O'Brian understands. He’s got Piers and Jessica and all the rest who can do his work for now. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m not going to get better, Chris.” She set the food down and looked into his brown eyes. His large frame took up the entrance to the kitchen and the bright morning sun hit his overgrown locks, making them shine. 

“We’ll get you pills, meds, something.” His large eyebrows were knitted together in concern. 

“What do I tell the doctors, Chris? ‘Hi, I’m Jill Redfield. I was captured by the former leader of Umbrella and recently discovered Tricell. I was held hostage and experimented on for three years. I was ordered to kill my husband and I felt nothing.’” Her voice broke into a sob. “‘And now I’m in delirious pain?’ What will they say, Chris?” She stuck her face in her long, slender hands. 

“Jill…” He gently pulled her into his arms and held her. He laid his head down over hers and rubbed her back. “We’ll figure it out. The BSAA has to have some medical professional who can look at you. Hell, I’ll track Chambers down and see if she can help.” 

“She’s probably got a family. She was smart to get out of this line of work…” Jill murmured softly, sniffling. She kept her cheek pressed to his heart, not looking up to him. 

“Don’t change the subject—”

“Christopher…” she sighed again, pulling away from him. 

“Jillian.”

Her blue eyes snapped to him and she furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t call me that, Redfield.” 

“Hey,” he chuckled, “I apologize.” He raised a hand in plea and then grabbed a hash brown from the counter. 

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you’re really not going in today?” 

“I will if you’ll go in with me, Jill. We can run a few tests…” he trailed off at the look on her face. She clenched her jaw and turned to look at the sink behind her. 

“No... tests?” he continued in a softer tone, “Possibly just talking?”

She didn’t reply. She twiddled the hand towel between her fingers that her mother had bought them for Christmas years ago. Flashes of Kajuju played back in her mind; things that appeared only after the mechanic was removed. How could she have implanted the plaga in someone, let alone hundreds of innocent people? She was made to be a passionate fighter; someone who stood up for justice and took down the parasite. How could Wesker so quickly take that away from her? He made her the murderer of so many. 

“Jill?” Chris’ voice was soft. He laid a large hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Her chest constricted at his words. She turned and looked up at the man she loved. The brutish, angry, fiercely loving leader she devoted her world to who looked at her with sorrowful eyes. She could see his nights spent drinking, falling asleep in front of the tv, not eating and desperately looking for a distraction behind the weights. 

“I’ll go with you.”  
…


	2. Arriving Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small flashback to the incidents that occurred after the mission.

When the plane landed in Colorado on base’s headquarters, Jill felt an uneasiness clench in her stomach.  
Chris reached a hand out to her shoulder and smiled a small smile. His cheeks were cut up and so were his arms. His collarbone and shoulder had been broken and he had fractured a few fingers. Wesker had given them no mercy.

Sheva had stayed in Africa, her home, leaving Chris and Jill staring out at the sea for a long, quiet ride. He didn’t prod her with any questions or ask her why her hair was white, or why she was wearing stilettos that were almost the length of her leg. Instead, he held her hand in the quiet. 

When they stepped off the plane, Claire was there waiting for them. She had dyed her auburn hair a darker red and pulled it back as usual, but her face looked older and angular. Her childish looks were quickly changing and Jill felt a pain of remorse in her heart as Claire engulfed her in a Redfield hug. There was a hot wetness on her shoulder and Claire raised her head and there were tears in her eyes, and her mouth was moving but Jill couldn’t hear any of it. She hoped she didn’t show it. 

It was a blur as they went through people, after people that tried to ask her questions. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and her mind felt empty and hollow. There was a pit inside of her that had been growing, and now it was swallowing her whole. 

Chris helped her up the steps to their apartment even with his ailments. He unlocked the door and pushed it open and closed it behind them, eyeing her behavior. They hadn’t talked since she had encouraged him to take Albert out. 

The smell of beer hit Jill like a tidal wave. The apartment reeked. Across their grey couch was at least four cans. The kitchen counter was littered too.  
“I-I’m Sorry.” Chris staggered, darting to the counter to start to clean in a hurry. He winced, cursing under his breath when he bumped his slung arm against the fake marble. He quickly chucked the crinkled cans into a recycling bin. 

Jill felt the pit grow wider inside of herself. Like somehow this black hole had planted itself in her heart and opened its mighty self. She sunk into their only chair that didn’t have old beer on it and scratched at the almost sewn on heels Wesker had dressed her in.  
…  
The next few days passed in a slow blur. She only got out of bed to use the restroom or when Chris had brought water to the bedside. She slept and had long confusing dreams. Dreams of death and torture and the plagas. 

She sat upright in bed. The hole didn’t feel so large anymore. 

The morning sun shone down onto their king sized bed. The familiar blue sheets had acquired a few stains since she had last slept under them. The room had barely changed. The same kanji style artwork her grandfather had given her was hanging above the dresser, and a few photos from their wedding were hanging slanted on the pale blue walls. 

Chris was perched at the end of the bed. One of his arms was in its sling and in the other he held a steaming cup of coffee. He looked at her with tired eyes. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see you in this bed again.”

“Chris…” her voice broke and tears brimmed her eyes. The thin, long white hair fell down past her shoulders and made her look older and more fragile. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that so soon.” He pursed his lips. He glanced down towards the bedspread. 

“I remember everything.” She choked out. The words were like hot coals coming up her throat.

“What?”

“I… remember everything…When you and Sheva came, there was a small part of me that knew who you were.” She clenched her jaw around tears. “But I had no control.” 

There was a slight lift of Chris’ shoulders. He leaned over, setting the coffee down on their side table.

“You remember? Thank God…” He muttered, running his free hand through his unkempt hair. 

“Chris… I-I…” She clenched her jaw again. Her mind was swirling with horrific images. A movie reel of events flashed: she shoved plaga after plaga down innocents throats. Their cries engulfed her ears, drowning out the ticking of the wall clock and Chris and everything else. 

“Jill?” Chris gently reached his hand out to cup her chin. 

It all came back into focus in a split second. Chris’ voice, his rugged appearance, and the warm bed hit her like a cold wave. The villagers screams swirled in an awful mixture with Chris’ voice like a screeching teapot that pierced through her skull. She grabbed his wrist from her face and thrust him down against the bed, and twisted his jaw up in her other hand. 

“J-Jill?!” Chris grunted. She had her leg pinning his broken arm. He tried to shift under her grasp but she gripped harder. “Valentine, let go!”  
He wrestled his hand out of hers and pushed her back against her chest. She cried out as she fell back against the bed. She clutched her arms to herself and her eyes were shut tight. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” She mumbled. A few tears fell down her pale cheeks. 

Chris quickly pulled himself together, grunting at his arm as he tried to pull her over to him. She laid against his lap, still clutching her chest. 

“I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry.” She looked up at him, her large blue eyes like the sky on a stormy afternoon. “I didn’t mean to… Chris…” 

“I believe you.” He said softly. He moved his hand to one of hers on her chest. She flinched. 

“It hurts.” She tried to pull away from his hand. 

“Let me see it.”

Jill didn’t say anything for a long moment. She sighed, heavily, Which Chris saw her flinch at. She pulled her tank top down slowly, revealing a bruised mess.  
Her chest was blossomed in pinks, reds, blues, and purples that went from where the spider was to her collarbones. The round scars were covered in dried blood and the skin was a dark blue almost black against her rib cage. 

“We’re not going anywhere for a long while…” Chris said through an exhale. He drew his wife close to him and kissed her white hair. 

…


	3. New Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to the BSAA base for answers leaves Jill with more questions.

 Jill expected going back to headquarters to be an awkward, anxiety-ridden experience. But, once she walked through the doors with Chris she felt at home.

There were new faces and familiar ones that greeted them as they passed through the halls. Chris didn’t seem happy nor upset to see them; his captain role had kicked in. Jill could read it in his narrowed brows and thin-lined lips.

He lead them down an unfamiliar unit, opening doors at the scan of his thumb.

“Captain!” Piers threw a door open, running over to Chris. His brown hair was short against his young face.

“I’ve got business to do, Piers.” Chris shrugged him off and continued his stride. His boots thudded against the tile.  
Piers glanced Jill over, a mixture of bewilderment and disgust flashed in a second before he took off after his captain. “Finn needs orders. The guys are on the field and are waiting for your command.”

“Tell them to think for themselves.” His voice was growing irritated.

“They’re hurt- “

“Then why don’t you go and lead them?” Chris narrowed his brows and yanked a door open at the end of the hall. He pulled Jill in with him and the door clicked behind them.

Piers stared at them through the glass, his jaw clenched before he quickly stalked off.

“Chris…” Jill watched his annoyance. He looked at her, rolling his shoulders back and nodded to the room ahead of them. It was a lab; filled with a dozen computers and more complex processing pieces that Jill hadn’t seen since the Mansion Incident.

Her eyelids fluttered; no, she had seen this much more recent. She pushed the memories away, swallowing hard and looked to Chris. He was now talking to an older woman who was leaned over a microscope. She dragged her eyes away, unwillingly from the lens to Chris.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Ryans, this is my wife.” Chris gestured his hand to Jill, a big grin on his face. “Jill used to be co-captain alongside me and co-creator of the BSAA before…” He cleared his throat.

“Oh, Mrs. Redfield, how nice to finally meet you.” Ryans stood from the desk and smiled. She had curly greyed hair pulled back into a bun, and her plump figure was clothed in a lab suit.

Jill forced a smile and nodded, “you as well.”

“Anyway,” Chris continued. “I mentioned to you about the exp-“He stopped at his word choice, and then continued, “… help we could try to give her?”

Ryans nodded and reached for a binder from a stack of them along the wall. She began to flip through the pages and then moved towards a ray of monitors along the wall. She typed quickly, clicking and sorting through the various monitors and eventually shook her head.

“From my research, I don’t know enough about the device that was used. I know of Uroboros and how the virus works, but not that piece of technology. We have no records on file.”

Chris’ face fell, and he clenched his jaw.

"Thank you, Priya.” He nodded to her compassionate expression, before turning and leaving the room. Jill followed.

Her chest constricted. She had known of the Progenitor virus that Wesker had taken, and she took part in the expanse of the plaga… but what had flowed through her? Did it still flow through her now?

 

 

They walked the cold halls in silence before Chris stopped and looked at her. “We’re going to have to run tests.”

She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t want to talk here, now, and about this.” She continued to walk past him and exited out of the lab corridors. Waves of fear and confusion washed over her, a new unfamiliar feeling. She had never felt this on the battlefield.

Chris exhaled and stalked after her, but as soon as the doors shut there were four or five people piled up to him. Jill pushed her way through the halls, not looking at the people who gave her a second look. She rushed past them all, her head swarming with so many questions. There was something else besides the Progenitor coursing through her? Why hadn't she ripped her file from the filthy blonde's labs? Now he was gone, and there were no answers. Nothing to silence the pain, the delusions or the questions.

Her lack of uniform as she paced caused even more to look for a moment. But, she knew the layout, she had helped build it, and there was a particular spot that was her favorite. She threw open the double doors to the courtyard where a small garden grew on the mountainside. It was built to be a good distraction and grounding place for the agents. The brisk air enveloped her as she walked out.  
The trees shook in the breeze, the pale green leaves, and grass flowing in the mountain air. Bright multicolored petunias and daisies grew along an iron fence that looked over the mountain valley. The yellows and gold tips were touched with snow and that had been what drew Chris into making this the headquarters. A workforce within an oasis.

Jill looked down over the fence and felt her stomach in her throat. Images flashed of plummeting with Wesker; her adrenaline flying through her as they fell, and then the broken feeling once they made contact with the dirt. _How_ did they survive? How did _she_? He had viruses embedded into the existence of him, but Jill, although a product of S. T. A. R. S. and Raccoon survivor, she wasn’t made of titanium.

The wind whipped through her short hair, pushing it behind her like a wave. The contact against her skin felt like fire, and she reached to brush off the feeling from her arm when her hand jolted with an immense electric shock. She gasped; grasping her arm to her chest as the same shock spread through her. She dropped to her knees, ragged breaths heaving from her tight chest. Her head knelt against the cold iron fence, an immense drain of fatigue washing over her. The world echoed around her, and she blinked heavily. The dirt beneath her clouded and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. What did you all think?


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected event at H.Q. leaves Chris worried and quickly transitions them into new territory.

Jill’s eyes lifted, groggily. The room was blurry, but she could make out its blatant whiteness. A surge of panic seized her, and she jolted upright throwing her arms out into the blurry surroundings to grab anything. Was she back with Wesker? 

A warm hand grabbed hers and squeezed it.

“It’s alright, Jill.” Chris’ deep voice washed over the panic inside of her like a cool wave. But he didn’t sound cool or calm. 

“I just got off the phone with Chambers.” He continued. 

Her eyesight gradually began to sharpen, and she saw her husband leaning over her. His brows were furrowed and his eyes dark. 

“Where…” Jill glanced around. 

“You passed out on the terrace.” 

“Oh… right.” Jill rubbed her eyes with her free hand. She remembered the pain and the memories. It seemed distant though; not recent. She sighed. 

“It’ll be okay.” He quickly said at her sigh. “We’re going to get you some help. They said we could go home once you woke up. Then I’m booking a flight to Los Angeles.” 

She glanced at the surroundings behind him. Medicinal cabinets with the B.S.A.A. logo engraved in the transparent glass lined the walls. She was glad she was home, and not somewhere foreign. 

“Los Angeles?” Jill’s head made her feel like she was wading through a fog. 

“That’s where Rebecca is. She thinks she can help figure out what’s going on.” Chris’ tone was patient. 

…

Chris laid next to her in their bed, the laptop and credit cards balanced in his lap. A few flight websites were pulled up and he would glance at his partner and mumble something about the prices. Jill’s head was sunk into their pillows, her eyes closed and ears barely listening to him. 

“If we leave tomorrow we could go for $250, but if we leave next week it could be $150 each.” He glanced at her again, and after seeing her disinterest he looked back at the screen. 

“I guess the price doesn’t really matter that much.” He mumbled after. 

“Not really.” 

Her voice came out in a whisper, but it bellowed in her head. She winced; eyebrows furrowing at the sharp pain it caused. She closed her eyes tighter. 

Chris blinked his brown eyes watching her, and then turned back to the laptop and bought the tickets for tomorrow. He shoved his credit card back into his pocket and set the laptop precariously on the side tables corner. He stretched and unfolded his large body beside her, wrapping an arm around her and engulfing her into his chest. He stroked her short hair. 

“You’re my next mission, Valentine. I’m going to search and search until we break this case.” 

He kissed the top of her head and the warmth of his lips sent shivers down Jill’s spine. 

“You promise, captain?” She said in the same small whisper. 

“I promise.”   
… 

They hadn’t much time to pack anything and with Jill’s unceasing migraine she found herself throwing random things into her suitcase. She owned trousers, jeans, and boots but nothing suitable for the Californian heat. Her sweaters and jackets were what she needed now in Colorado, so she had to dig into the depths of their dresser to find anything light. 

Chris’ voice carried into the room. He was on the phone with his sister, trying to arrange plans for her to drop them off that evening to the Denver airport. 

“You want to come with us?” 

Jill grabbed a short-sleeved tee and stuffed it into the suitcase with no folding. The tension in her brows was growing stronger but she just had to keep pushing past it. 

“Well, no I don’t mind, Claire. I just don’t know why you’d want- “He got cut off. 

She packed a few toiletries before zipping up the suitcase and pushing it off the bed. It fell to the ground with a thud, probably bothering the neighbors below them. Jill met her face to the comforter and closed her eyes. Would anything ever be normal? 

She inhaled and held her breath. 

Chris poked his head from the doorway, his cell phone pressed to his chest. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated at seeing Jill in bed. He pursed his lips and talked low.

“Jill, Claire wants to know if she can come with us.” 

She exhaled quicker than she wanted. She turned her head from inside the mattress and managed a small smile for him. Her eyes were dark, and the hollows under them were even darker. “Yeah. She can.” 

He smiled back at her and disappeared from the doorway. He ended the call shortly after and rustled about in the living room, possibly tidying up their stack of bills near the door. Jill hoped at least.   
… 

Riding in Claire’s truck was a bit cramped, but it was doable. She had upgraded from her small two door from college to a red pickup, and dog hair covered the pleather seats. Jill sat in the back as they rode through the darkening streets, her head resting back against the headrest, eyes closed. Mountains lined the burnt orange sky, which the snowy ground reflected. 

“I haven’t seen Rebecca, yanno, in years.” Claire spoke softly, glancing at her brother every few minutes from the driver’s seat. She had a leather jacket on over a turtleneck, the jacket crinkled and creased around the edges, but it still served its purpose. 

“None of us have. She took that job working for the state and has been putting out these research papers that are ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculous?” Claire rose an eyebrow. 

“Well, like…” Chris scrambled for words. “She’s so smart.” 

“Yeah, and? Everyone knows that. She joined S. T. A. R. S. at eighteen and survived practically every mission by herself.” Claire’s cheeks flushed, and she kept her eyes on the road. “There’s no doubt she’s brilliant.” 

“Yeah, anyways. I think she knows more about the viruses than anyone else.” Chris crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Too bad she’s not at the B.S.A.A.” 

“Yeah, too bad.” 

“Maybe she’ll come to Terrasave.” Claire smiled and glanced back at her brother. 

He raised an eyebrow at her excitement but pushed it away. “She can’t go anywhere until she can help Jill.” 

"I don't know anyone else who's better suited to." Her blue eyes met his before parking in the crowded parking lot of the airport. "Now, let's all try to get through this without any episodes, okay?" 

"Sure, I'll try to talk myself out of an attack. Smart thinking, Claire." Chris rolled his eyes before closing the truck door behind him. He seized the suitcases from the back and met eyes with Jill. 

"It'll be okay, I promise, Valentine." He offered his free hand to help her out, which she took. He balanced her frailed body against his until she managed to get out. 

"Don't break your promise, Redfield."

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider commissioning [me ](http://tiredmermaid.tumblr.com/tagged/wc) or buying me a [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/tiredmermaid). Thank you.


End file.
